Uncommon Consequences
by Alipeeps
Summary: The pain was incredible... Shep whumpy tag fic for the promo to Season 3, Episode 7 Common Ground. SPOILERS FOR COMMON GROUND.


_A quick one-shot based on the promo trailer for Common Ground - will almost certainly be made AU as soon as the episode airs but the promo was so amazing that I just had to write something..._

_**SPOILERS FOR COMMON GROUND!**_

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**The pain was incredible. It radiated outwards from his chest, burning through him in a riptide of agony. He'd never experienced anything like it; he could feel the very life being ripped from his body. 

He'd refused to look at the video screen as Kolya's men had dragged the starving Wraith into the room, not trusting himself to stay strong if he saw the faces of his friends, the desperate knowledge of his fate written across their familiar features. He'd been determined not to give the Genii commander the satisfaction of seeing his fear – fear for himself, for his team, for what Kolya was about to do to all of them. He wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing how much it hurt him, for his team – his _family_ – to see him like this, bound and helpless, at the whim of a madman. He couldn't afford to be weak right now, he couldn't.. he _wouldn't_ put his team through that. So he'd focused on his anger, fanning the flames of his rage until they it burned bright enough to push aside the sick taste of fear, the awful feeling of helplessness that washed over him at the thought of what was to come.

His anger had flared whilst Kolya taunted Elizabeth, teasing her with his power over her, revelling in the fact that he could cause her pain. He'd let the anger burn in his eyes as he glared at his captor, telling Kolya exactly what he thought of him without the need for words. The man had just smiled; the sick bastard had been enjoying himself.

And yet somehow, despite all his experience, despite everything he'd seen of the man, he hadn't quite believed that the Genii commander would follow through on his threat. Despite the man's taunts to Elizabeth, despite the bedraggled, hungry Wraith held tightly between two Genii soldiers, it had still come as a surprise when the creature's hand had slammed into his chest.

The gag muffled his involuntary cry, the fabric pulling tight across his face as his lips parted in a howl of agony. The pain was sharp and immediate, like a knife stabbing into his chest, and flowed outwards through his body, his heart racing, pounding in his head as adrenalin spiked and the Wraith enzyme surged through his blood. The pain followed the path of the enzyme, rushing along nerve endings and blood vessels, burning him up inside, fogging his mind until all he could think of was pain, pain, pain. His body jerked and shuddered against his bindings, his head thrown back as the Wraith pushed its hand harder against his chest, pressing him back against the hard surface of the chair. Dear god, it felt like its hand was pushing its way inside his chest, ripping through skin and muscle and flesh. He gritted his teeth, trying desperately to hang on.

His last coherent thought was, "So this is what dying feels like." He could feel his body growing weak, the life and strength literally draining from him. Black spots swam across his tightly closed eyes, his head was spinning and all he knew was pain and the sensation of fading away.

He was left gasping and shaking when the feeding abruptly stopped, the hand pulled forcibly from his flesh, feeling like it ripped part of his soul away with it. He was slumped in the chair, the ropes pulled tight against his skin, the only thing keeping him even vaguely upright. Everything was confusion; his ears were buzzing with a welter of jumbled sound and it was a long moment before he began to make sense of his surroundings once more. A roar of white noise developed into a voice, a deep angry growl of a voice, shouting and yelling. Ronon. Oh crap. Awareness flooded through him along with a thrill of cold fear and despair. His team. Elizabeth. Rodney. Teyla. Oh god, they'd seen everything; Kolya had forced them to watch.

He struggled against a bone-deep weariness to open his eyes and found himself staring at the bare stone floor. He was slumped to the side, hanging forward, the bindings at his wrists preventing him from slipping from the chair. His chest burned with a lingering memory of pain and he could feel a warm wetness against his skin as a trickle of blood seeped into his t-shirt.

"Kolya.." Elizabeth's voice. She sounded…. awful. Sick and afraid and desperate. He couldn't look up, couldn't bear to see the monitor, to see the faces of his friends, to see them looking at him, seeing him like this.

"You will give me what I want, Dr Weir," Kolya's voice was calm, almost pleasant, as though this were nothing more than a friendly trade negotiation, "or I will let my friend here slowly drain the life from Colonel Sheppard.. bit by agonising bit."

"You sonofa.." Ronon's angry response was muffled, cut-off abruptly.

There was a smile now in Kolya's voice. "You have one hour, Dr Weir, before I contact you again. I suggest you use the time to consider how much Colonel Sheppard is really worth to you."

There was a click and a hiss of static as the video link disengaged and then the ring of footsteps on the cold stone floor. He sat slumped in his chair, dazed and hurting, as a pair of polished boots came into view. His chin was wrenched upwards and Kolya smiled coldly into his face from inches away. He bit back the pain and the desperation, meeting the man's gaze defiantly, refusing to let the Genii commander see the terror that had wrapped its icy grip around his heart. Kolya's smile only widened.

"You are a very stubborn man, Colonel Sheppard. I hope for your sake that Dr Weir is.. less intractable."

His head sagged forward again when Kolya straightened abruptly, releasing his grip. He had no strength left, his body weak and trembling, still reeling from the trauma it had suffered. Aftershocks of pain still rippled through him, shivering his muscles, and the wound on his chest was a constant, numb ache. Worse than the pain though, worse than the weakness that left him shivering, was the fear; the dreadful, despairing fear that clenched his guts and sat like a solid rock in his chest, stealing the air from his lungs. That… that thing had taken his life, torn it from his protesting flesh. How much had it taken? How much of his life? It had felt like an eternity as the Wraith sucked the life from him – how many years had it taken from him? Right at that moment he understood completely Dr Gall's decision to put a gun to his head. For a brief instant he wished he had the option to do the same.

He was unable to resist when the guards came for him, staring at them glassily as they jerked his head back and roughly pulled the gag from his face, his body sagging limply as they unfastened the ropes and hauled him to his feet. His trembling legs gave way under him and the two guards grunted their annoyance, shifting their grips to support more of his weight as they dragged him between them.

They simply dropped him when they reached the cell and he hit the floor hard, unable to coordinate his body enough to try to break the fall. He found himself groaning quietly as they strode from the cell, laughing and joking amongst themselves as they locked the door behind them. The stone floor was cold and hard but movement required a strength he simply didn't have; and so he slowly curled his body up on the cold floor, the effort of weakly dragging his legs up almost exhausting him. He felt as weak as a kitten; helpless and shivering and lost. And in less than an hour Kolya would contact Elizabeth and they would come for him again – and again and again and again, until he was dead. Elizabeth couldn't give in to their demands; he knew that, he accepted that.

He realised belatedly that he was shivering, hard enough that his teeth were beginning to chatter. Whether from the cold, from shock or from the trauma of the feeding, he didn't know but he couldn't seem to stop his body from trembling. He lay on the cold floor of a dark cell, his body aching and burning and shivering, and felt himself sinking into a black despair. If he'd ever thought about it, this wasn't how he'd expected the end to come but he could not escape the reality of his situation. There was no rescue, no way out. John Sheppard closed his eyes and waited to die.

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_Fin_... 


End file.
